


Je T'aime

by Seventysixtyniner



Series: Love in War [4]
Category: Dunkirk (2017)
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Mr. Dawson being an ally, Some PTSD hinted at
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 17:57:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11834013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seventysixtyniner/pseuds/Seventysixtyniner
Summary: The roar in Tommy's ear causes him to flinch and cover his head in his arms. He curls his back, bracing for another rain of Luftwaffe bombs. The only thing he feels though, is a hand on the shoulder, shaking him back to reality. He snaps his head up to see the Frenchman  looking at him with a painful, concerned expression."Sorry," Tommy says, not sure how else to explain himself.Philippe leans toward Tommy and presses his lips to the Englishman's forehead."Ça va?" He asks."Saw what?" Tommy responds. The Frenchman laughs at Tommy, and at himself for finally finding a hole in the two soldiers' seemingly seamless understanding of each other. Apparently nonverbal communication would always be their forte.





	Je T'aime

**Author's Note:**

> To everyone who read the rest of this series: Thank you so much!!! Your kudos and comments mean the world to me. CHANGING LÉON TO PHILIPPE NOW LOL. If you see Léon instead of Philippe I meant to change it and missed it My Bad... Aneurin why u do dis.....

After Dunkirk Tommy never thought he'd be able to stand on a beach again. He is convinced to though, when the Frenchman and he are wandering the streets of Dover, Anglais-Français Dictionnaire in hand, and discover a wide, empty beach covered in sun-kissed golden sand. He is hesitant at first, before he sees Philippe removing his boots and stepping forward, his arm gesturing for Tommy to follow. The Englishman complies, though he doesn't remove his boots.

It's been three days since Tommy, Philippe, and Alex were bill eyed at the Dawsons' house. In that time, Philippe and Tommy developed a system of writing, page-turning and pointing with the God-sent dictionary under Tommy's arm. They've learned trivial things about each other, like ages (Tommy being 19 and Philippe 23) and their number of siblings (both have 2 younger sisters).

Philippe sits down, leaning back on his hands with his legs straight. Tommy uneasily sits next to him with his legs crossed. Looking at the cloudless blue sky, Tommy thinks he should feel peaceful. He looks to Philippe to see if he can detect any shred of recollection of the last time they were on a beach but finds none. Instead, he finds the Frenchman looking dreamily across the Channel, reminiscing about his country on the other side.

The Englishman begins to pull at the button on his sleeve absentmindedly. He slows when he hears the sound of thunder.

 _That's not thunder_ , Tommy realizes. _It's not stopping. It's getting louder. It's getting louder_.

The roar in Tommy's ear causes him to flinch and cover his head in his arms. He curls his back, bracing for another rain of _Luftwaffe_ bombs. The only thing he feels though, is a hand on the shoulder, shaking him back to reality. He snaps his head up to see Philippe looking at him with a painful, concerned expression.

"Sorry," Tommy says, not sure how else to explain himself.

Philippe leans toward Tommy and presses his lips to the Englishman's forehead.

" _Ça va_?" He asks.

"Saw what?" Tommy responds. The Frenchman laughs at Tommy and at himself for finally finding a hole in the two soldiers' seemingly seamless understanding of each other. Apparently nonverbal communication would always be their forte.

Philippe stands and offers his hand to Tommy, recognizing that it was time to leave. Tommy takes it and the two make their way to the Dawsons' yellow rowhome. As they walk along the trail of cafés and beach hotels Tommy wishes he could hold the Frenchman's hand. He doesn't though, out of the fear of stares from passerbys and shame from his spell on the beach.

To Tommy's relief, they soon reach the familiar, chipping white steps. As he opens the front door, the two are greeted by a voice carrying over from the living room.

"Would you boys mind coming in here a second?" Mr. Dawson has the tone of a father about to scold his child. When the soldiers find Mr. Dawson, he is sitting in a chair by the bookshelf, reading a newspaper with a cup of tea in his hand.

"Boys," he says, folding the newspaper and setting it in his lap, "I've never been one for secrets. Lately, though, I've been thinking you two are hiding something from me."

Tommy feels his face grow pale. Were he and Philippe too obvious? His mind went back to all the times Mr. Dawson might've seen them brushing hands too long or standing too close.

"What, uh, what are you thinking?" He asks, cursing himself for stuttering.

"Well, Tommy," he stands up and points to a gap in the dusty bookshelf "Maybe you can tell me why there's a certain book missing right here, and why I haven't heard your friend Phil here say a word these whole three days?"

_Oh. That secret._

Mr. Dawson pauses before bringing his finger to point at the curly-haired soldier. "He's no Englishman, is he?"

Tommy sighs and reaches for the book in Philippe's hand. "No, he's not," he says, defeated. Before he can return the dictionary, Mr. Dawson gives him a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Don't bother," he says "We're going to need all the help we can get once the Jerry's reach here," the man walks over to the two and looks Philippe in the eye. "I would recommend he learn English though." Philippe stares at the man in front of him, confused and nearly petrified as the words go over his head. Mr. Dawson raises his hand and ruffles the Frenchman's hair.

"Thank you," Tommy says, wanting to shake the man's hand or hug him, he can't really tell. The two start for their room.

"Oh, and boys," Mr. Dawson calls to them, "If you thought this was about the little love affair you two have going on, that was apparent since you walked through the door."

Tommy feels his heart drop to his stomach. "Sir, I-"

"Again, don't bother. My son and George are the same way. I think the world could use some more love these days anyhow."

Tommy exhales, allowing himself to relax. 

"Just remember, you're using George's bed!" the man chuckled loudly, pleased with his joke.

Tommy is a little surprised when he hears himself laugh with him, though he feels his face heating up. He thanks Mr. Dawson again and the two head to their room as the man returns to his chair and newspaper.

Philippe silently closes the door and raises his eyebrows to Tommy, clearly asking Tommy what that was all about.

"It's ok," Tommy says, reaching for the Frenchman's hand and holding it. They stand like this for a while in the comfortable silence, simply trying to enjoy this moment of in the eye of the hurricane around them. Philippe's eyes are downcast, and Tommy is admiring his face. He wants to count every freckle dotting his cheeks, run his hands through the curls spilling onto Philippe's forehead. Tommy feels the Frenchman pull his hand away. As he's about to ask why, he sees Philippe look up and their eyes meet. There's a look of stern resolution in his eyes, though Tommy can still sense the Frenchman's ever-present nerves.

Tommy feels the hand Philippe pulled away rest on his hip, joined by one on the other side. The hands grip his hips for a beat before pulling him closer. He wraps his arms around Philippe's shoulders. Their noses brush briskly before Philippe's tilts his head and closes the minuscule space between their lips. The hands on Tommy's hips move as Philippe fully wraps his arms around him, trying to feel as much of the Englishman as he can. Tommy feels wholly enveloped in the other's warmth, and presses deeper into the kiss, never wanting it to end. After a few more seconds, he feels the Frenchman's lips leave his own and opens his eyes, unsatisfied.

He sees Philippe staring back at him with a purely blissful smile. Tommy would feel embarrassed, had he not felt the same way.

" _Je t'aime_ ," Philippe whispers as he leans forward, peppering kisses up Tommy's jaw and down to his neck. He repeats it so softly Tommy can feel the Frenchman's breath on his skin more than he can hear it.

Tommy brings one hand off of Philippe's shoulder and tangles it in the Frenchman's hair. He tilts his own chin upward, offering Philippe every inch of skin he can.

" _Philippe_ ," he gasps as he feels the Frenchman's teeth above his collarbone. Philippe never bites, though, and Tommy almost wishes he would stop being so gentle. He knows gentility is the Frenchman's nature though, and wouldn't change any bit of him for the world.

Tommy feels the lips leave his neck. Philippe cups Tommy's face in his hands and presses their foreheads together. Tommy places his hands atop of Philippe's to hold them in place. He feels completely secure looking into the other's eyes, as if they were the last two in all of Britain; as if the war was over. He scolds himself for even thinking about the war and the inevitable incoming attack on his home country. He pulls himself back to the present and focuses instead on the blue eyes in front of him, relaxing at the sight.

Tommy removes his hands and replaces them on Philippe's back. He moves forwards so his body is flush against the Frenchman's and rests his chin on the other's shoulder. Philippe wraps his arms around Tommy and begins to rub circles on his shoulder blades.

" _Je t'aime_ ," the Frenchman says again.

"I love you, too."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This will probably be it for the Love in War series since pre-season is starting up for me, but I might drop an occasional one-shot?? Who knows. Also you can follow me on tumblr @1776er . Kudos/Comments are very much appreciated!!


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